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13

Northern gate and the road to the Small Rinnever Spurs,

day watch

The next driver, to whom I turned with a request to give me a ride home, got away so hastily that he deserved a particularly catchy curse in the back. And why does Moonbeam scare people so much? Because of the ghost stories? It's not as scary as they say. And not only not scary, but even funny. But everyone is shaking and running away, one has only to mention the place next to which my family estate is located. Okay, I'll wait a little longer: what if there is a daredevil? If I can't find it, I'll go on foot. I won't crumble. Only the basket will interfere.

Yes, I'm a horseless person. So what? Why the fuck do I need a horse? Jump on the piers on it? So the hooves on wet stones glide even better than the soles of boots. And if you fall into the water, and a heavy carcass crushes you from above, what should you do? Yes, and I have nowhere to ride, it’s easier to run on foot through the narrow streets, cutting off the path through the gardens and gates. Daneke Tarma, of course, has horses on the farm. So she went to them and went to relatives in the estate. And to me, an animal is just an extra hassle. I don’t know how to deal with a cat ... And when you urgently need to get from one point of the city to another, you can use artificial methods: in this case, I always have something with me ...

When Kallas Ra-Dien left the Re-Amiter's office, I quickly finished working on the protocol and only then gave vent to rage and impotent rage.

Invented, then, me punishment, monster? And rejoices, imagining my future torment. Oh well, let's get even! I'll shut up the next negotiations for you, then we'll see how you sing! You won't even know it's my fault. Although ... We have known each other for too long. So long that we know each other as flaky. And the absence of clear evidence of my negligence will not prevent you from establishing the presence of her. As always. No, I'm not going to be mean on purpose. Asked me to grow up? I'll try. By force, but I'll try. Power, you say? Use this power...

— Do you need it for Lunar Bend?

A loud voice pulled me out of my thoughts. Voiced, but somehow sharp, or something, as if the coins rub against each other and tinkle.

— Yes, me.

I turn around, hoping to see anyone, but not a ten-year-old piglet, who mockingly looks up at me.

Perky light braids sticking out to the sides. A scattering of freckles around a snub nose. And - unexpectedly dark eyes that reminded me of that other one. But if I found only desperation in the look of khes, then this girl looks at me in a completely different way. With a sense of superiority.

- Then let's go!

- Where?

“To my wagon, of course. Or changed your mind?

"To my wagon"? Oh wow! Such a crumb, and already admitted to driving a horse? However, it is quite possible that she is here with her father or mother and just wants to impress the stranger with her feigned importance.

No, still alone: ​​next to the crooked structure on wheels, into which a sleepy bay mare is harnessed, there is no one else.

- Get in! - The girl deftly settled herself on the front of the cart. - Well, why are you delaying? Are you squeamish?

What is it for me to disdain? It’s better to ride than to drag along a hot road on your own two feet, and even with four in weight.

- And give the beast a breath of air, otherwise he, go, already worn out! advises the young driver as I place the basket at the edge of the cart.

- An animal? Ah-ah-ah...

And how did she see it? I take off the handkerchief with which the top was tied from the basket, and meet the eyes of the reproachful yellow saucers.

- Mr-r-r-r-r-x-x-x-x-x!

Either Mikis swears, or expresses his resignation to fate in my face.

Yes, I had to take the cat with me. And where are you going? Daneke Tarma has not returned yet, there are no servants in the house - they are released until the mistress returns, and who will look after the cat? And they will ask me! Therefore, straight from the Island, I trudged home, cleaned a basket of a suitable size from the decrepit remains of last year's greenery and put the cat in it. The cat did not want to take the proposed place and climbed out. I put it back in the basket. He got out again. This could go on until the very evening, but my touchingly desperate appeal to the cat's conscience (flavored with threats to leave without food and the simultaneous promise of fresh river fish) had an effect: Mikis pretended to agree, and for the eleventh time he remained in the basket. And now I have to pay him off. Okay, I’ll go to my father to bow, he won’t offend the refusal of the only heir?

I have always loved roads. Especially acquaintances. You can endlessly look at the measured change of landscapes, lazily passing by. Watch and think. About mine. If the fellow traveler does not pester with questions.

Are you running from trouble? The girl narrowed her right eye.

Actually, she did not pay attention to the management of her horse at all, preferring to stare at me, for which, from the very beginning of our joint journey, she sat half-turned.

- Where did you get it from?

- You're kind of creepy. It's like something happened.

“Maybe it happened, what difference does it make to you?”

- Yes, none. Only during the conversation, time flies faster, didn’t you really notice?

“Behind the conversation…” I chuckle. - And what will we talk about?

- Whatever you want. So you probably live in the city center?

No, in the suburbs.

- And why? - sincere bewilderment.

“The air tastes better there.

- Tastier? - the girl draws incredulously.

- Well, yes. Lighter and fresher. At the piers, the air is bitter. And in the city center - dry and prickly.

- Truth? - intense thoughtfulness on a freckled face. — How do you know that?

“No way,” I shrug. “I feel it, that's all.

- Can you teach?

- Not. I was born with this.

- Great!

- I do not think so.

- Why?

And really, why? Because being able to read fragrances like the pages of a book takes away my freedom? Maybe. It is painful to fall asleep and wake up only to SERVE. And how many years I've been living with this feeling, but I'm still not used to it. Maybe I'll never get used to it. But what should I say to a curious child?

“You see… At birth, the gods give each person some kind of ability. Some people see better than others, some people hear better. Different things happen. But gifts are never made just like that.

- Like this? And when will they give you a hair band in the middle of winter? Isn't that just as well?

- Of course not. The use is obvious to you. And the one who gives, treads a path between your hearts. Makes a reserve for the future.

- Yeees? - the girl squints. “Are you saying that donors are never disinterested?”

- Never.

- Quite quite?

- Quite quite. And so I prefer to pay for someone else's kindness in gold. Straightaway.

There is silence, but not for long. Dark eyes flash again

“Then… If you have already been given something, and you know what you have to pay for the gift, why not chase it into the tail and into the mane?”

I frown uncomprehendingly:

- That is?

- Well, for your own benefit, use someone else's gift with might and main!

“You mean that…” I shift my gaze to the road slowly creeping towards us. - And what is the joy in such a benefit?

- Well, stupid!

The piglet flaps her arms, and the reins, which she does not let go of her thin fingers, flap on the bay rump. The mare turns her head and looks at us with such reproach that I begin to feel guilty. And the girl is not appeased:

- It's like borrowing a shovel from a neighbor: you still have to give it back, so who's stopping you from digging from morning to evening?

- Yeah. And if you took a cow, then you need to get as much offspring from it as possible? And a horse to drive to barely breathe?

“Well… This is…” A dark gaze rushes to the sky.

grinning:

- All clear with you.

- Is that clear? - the girl sniffles offendedly.

- With such a grip, you should drive caravans. You will shut up all merchants by the belt!

- And I'll shut up! - Proudly upturned nose seems even more snub.

- Good luck.

- And how are you?

- What am I?

Haven't found your benefit yet?

And I won't look.

- Why?

Because I don't need her.

“So you don’t need it, do you?” - the piglet does not believe. - You're lying!

“In what I need, no gifts can help.

No gifts. No magicians. No gods. Can happiness be bought or received as a gift? Just deserve it. But I don't know how yet. And no one will be able to tell, because the one who does not know happiness has nothing to say, and the one who is happy will not pick up words ...

- We've arrived, tell me! the driver says.

And yes, they have arrived.

I jump into the road dust.

Yes, from this very fork the road leads north to the house where I was born and raised. To the Lunar Bend. How nice to be back! I breathe in the sharp freshness of young foliage. There, beyond the grove, the waters of Lavuola rustle on the pebbles. I can almost hear their call, eternal and tender... I'm already on my way. Not long left.

I pick up the basket with the hushed Mikis. The girl stretches, stretching her back, tugging at her canvas dress, which is ridiculously bristling on her still flat chest.

- How much will you ask for the ride?

Dark eyes look at me searchingly. Inhale another.

“That which has a price, you have already given away.

- Did we count? I do not remember.

- I didn’t close my heart from the sun - what’s not a payment? And it can burn, but you were not afraid.

- Sun? singe?

Looks like one of us overheated. And it seems not me: I have a hat on my head.

“And you don’t hold on to gifts, smart girl!” So live. It will hurt - live. It will be bad - still live. Because he must live. Because you can give the most precious gift only to yourself, and not otherwise!

- What the…

“And remember: a child's heart is sharper than an adult's. Here, grow up. - The palm touches the temple. - Don't rush here! - lies on the chest.

- What are you talking about?

- And it will become completely unbearable, so be it, we will chat again. Only I won’t come to you myself: great liberties do not suit me. I will ask my friend to come. He will not refuse, he is kind. Kinder than me ... Well, forgive me for now, bright dan!

I rub my eyes with all my might, but I don’t understand how in an instant the road in front of me could be empty. Only a transparent shadow stirred the air and touched me with the lusciously burnt parting of the Layers. It smells like this every time my working Portal comes up, and I know this pungent scent very well. But where does he get in the middle of a country road? And another question, much more important: how could a youngster open and close the Portal, so much so that I did not notice this, although I looked with all my eyes?

Moonbeam, Ra Gro Manor,

last third of the day watch

Half an hour of unhurried step under the canopy of alder trees leaning over the road is the best means not only and not so much for putting thoughts and feelings in order, but for building plans for merciless revenge. And even the memories from distant childhood that overwhelmed me as soon as I stepped onto the old road leading to the gates of the estate did not help to pacify my anger.

Yes, Ra-Dien was absolutely right in being indignant at my "self-will." But, Omnipotent Mother, what a bore he is! Will I ever be the same? No, it's better to die young and careless, honestly! However, Callie was always too responsible and serious: is it a joke, long before coming of age, to receive news of the untimely death of an uncle who takes care of his nephew for lack of a father, and to be assigned to the household at a time when you least want to pore over dusty papers in a stuffy office? I can understand why dan Advisor is too strict and demanding. However, he is even more strict with himself. Can't do it otherwise. He does not think of his existence without every minute service to the world. I would like that... No, I don't want to. Enough with Antreya and one Kallas! As they say, a good little bit.

True, and right after I came of age, I found myself in a similar situation. The only difference is that I didn’t have so many unbearable debts. To be honest, nothing hung at all, except for the vague prospect that the throne will need it sometime in the future, once or twice ...

And yet he is an unusually memoryful and vicious type. One can only admire the diligence with which he brings me to white heat every single day. Well, what is my fault for not being able to concentrate for a long time? He would have looked at Lennar's grandfather: that's where horror, darkness and a bloody nightmare all rolled into one! Against the background of my ancestors, one might say, I am a role model ... No, I'm lying. I will never be like my father. And I want ... Passion! But I know it won't work. Worse, please! Better ... If I strain all my strength and skills. But I want to be exactly the same, and not “to the same extent corresponding to the position I hold”! Mom never sets my father as an example, but I can see in my eyes: she is looking for familiar and familiar features in my appearance. Every time you meet, he searches. And when he does not find it, he only bitterly presses his lips together. Silent reproach is the most terrible reproach. At least for me. Swearing and assault, even cruel, is nothing compared to the pain in the eyes of a person dear to you. Pain that he will never throw out, neither in words nor in actions. And I'm ready to do anything, just not to see regret in my mother's eyes. And to find in the look of Nais at least a little tenderness ...

The alley ended unexpectedly, as it always did, with a sharp turn and a dazzling splash of sunlight that made one close one's eyes.

Hello home!

Two squat floors of ancient masonry, rough, but with amazingly fine boulder edges fitted to each other under time-faded and completely whitish tiles. The windows are open, both above and below. Probably, ma started a general airing about my arrival. You might think that I will spend all these three days under the roof ... Yellow balls of undersized flowers in the flower beds - I always forget what they are called. Either dutik, or futik ... Ah, it doesn’t matter. The paths are sprinkled with fresh river sand, there is not a hint of last year's foliage on the well-groomed lawn. Oh yes mother! She trained the servants well. True, the servants love her too much to argue over trifles, so she does not find much use for her cool temper. When I'm not around.

"I'm so desperate to see you today!" - reports a stately woman who came out onto the porch of the house.

As tall as me, broad-shouldered, fit, despite her already quite respectable age. Early graying hair is combed smoothly and tightly braided around the head. From the corners of the laughing light green eyes, wrinkles scatter in rays when a smile appears on full lips. That's how it is now. Not a beauty, but compelling to draw attention to itself with inner dignity. Straight, like her favorite blade, and just as flexible: no matter how she bent under the yoke of circumstances, sooner or later she straightened her back. Daneke Inis Ra-Gro, née Ra-Ell. My mum.

I depict on the steps a semblance of a court bow:

“I was as fast as I could!

“Then it’s scary to imagine what happens when you are late,” Ma sighs, deliberately horrified.

“It’s not that bad,” I shake my head. - An hour later, an hour earlier - what's the trouble?

“Indeed,” a nod in agreement.

“Actually, she could send a carriage for me if she wanted to see me.

- Did you want to? — unfeigned surprise. - Did you want to? Yes, for reasons such as the one that brought you home, I would not see you for a century!

Ma, I accidentally...

— Of course! You do all the stupid things from the bottom of your heart!

- And I'm proud of it.

- Did the hotel bring it?

Inis's gaze rests on the basket hanging in the crook of my elbow.

- A hotel? Oh, I totally forgot...

I shift the handkerchief to the side, and a curious black muzzle rises above the braided edge.

“It seems that I didn’t order a cat for you,” my mother looks at my fellow traveler doubtfully. Why did you bring THIS?

- You see ... It happened! I smile brightly. “This is my city mistress's cat. Daneke Tarma left for a few days, leaving him in my care. Here I am...

“I don’t think he would have disappeared without your participation,” Inis pronounces the verdict.

“Perhaps he wouldn’t have disappeared. But what if? And then I have to make excuses? I'd rather carry it with me.

- Oh well…

Ma reaches out and scratches the cat's throat. Mikis pretends to be insanely happy, which instantly wins sympathy. Not mine, of course, but my mother's. Shaggy fuzzy!

- All right, let him run. Our dogs are peaceful, they don't attack cats.

I promised him fish. Fresh.

- Promised? Green eyes tremble with barely contained laughter. - She lived ... The boy is negotiating with cats ... Oh, how much shame on my gray head!

Why is a cat worse than a human?

I try to repeat my mother's maneuver with stroking the black neck. Mikis narrows his eyes slyly and bites my fingers. It hurts, but it doesn't bleed. Well, you'll hit me in the head, you bastard! Not with her mother, of course: she will not tolerate animal abuse.

- Worse, better ... Go, rinse and change clothes from the road ... Lover of nature.

I go up to the terrace. Mom's hand slaps the back of my head. Mild, but embarrassing.

- Then go down to the kitchen, I'll cook the broth.

Maybe not right away?

How much time did Callie give you to rest?

I have to confess:

- Three days.

- That's it! Ma nods triumphantly. - The current day, as I understand it, is the first?

— Not excluded.

“So you need to hurry up. And since you won't do it yourself...

“You will hurry for me. I agree.

I sigh and go to the second floor, on the way releasing Mikis from the basket that got bored of him during the journey.

The windows of my room are also wide open, and a change of clothes is laid out on the made bed, unpretentious, but clean and smelling delicious of dried herbs. Hey, I don’t remember having such a shirt! Where did it come from? The collar is slightly larger than is now customary, and the fabric is slightly frayed. Is it papa?

A barely perceptible aroma of an old thing that has not been worn for a long time - no matter how you air it, it will still remain. Salt and honey. Moorings of Antreya and water meadows of the Lunar Bend. He probably put it on at about the same age that I am now. Well, let's try!

On the shoulders - just right. But in the waist, my father was much more elegant than me. Needless to say, I’m far from him ... Especially in courtesy with the ladies. How did he manage to win his mother's heart? Someday I'll make up my mind and ask. Necessarily! I'll just muster up the courage...

I take off my clothes and hastily wipe myself with a rag soaked in a basin full of warm water.

- Are you long? Cool down! Ma shouts from below.

- I'm on my way!

I dress, no longer wondering who this or that detail of my outfit could or could not belong to, and go down to the kitchen, where on the table the brew is already smoking in a deep bowl of a vile-looking and smelling brew.

I sniff and wince in disgust.

- Can't you make it more delicious?

“You can,” Ma readily admits. "But you don't deserve the pleasure." Sit down now!

I settle down on the bench by the table, leaning slightly over the bowl. A towel falls from above, leaving me alone with the suffocating fumes of Inis's concoction. I make an attempt to move away, but my mother’s heavy hand falls on the back of my head and presses down, almost forcing me to poke my nose into the freshly boiling greenish-yellow liquid.

I snort indignantly under the towel.

- I'll choke!

But ma is adamant as a rock:

If you don't want to breathe, I'll make you drink.

And there is nothing else left but to breathe a thick and disgustingly sour aroma to the point of stupefaction, and then cough angrily, feeling how the heart begins to pound against the ribs from each attack.